


꧁ 𝔽𝕀ℝ𝔼𝕎𝕆ℝ𝕂𝕊 ꧂

by welcometochavtown



Category: You Me At Six
Genre: M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, mentioned death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29584200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometochavtown/pseuds/welcometochavtown
Summary: Its late out, New Year's Eve, and Dan isn't watching the annual fireworks with the rest of the band.
Relationships: Dan Flint/Josh Franceschi





	꧁ 𝔽𝕀ℝ𝔼𝕎𝕆ℝ𝕂𝕊 ꧂

**Author's Note:**

> [TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SELF-HARM.]

The countdown struck zero, marking another year as passed. New Year's Day. Finally, 2010 was over, leaving the bad memories in the wake of excitement.

The band cheered loudly. Beer was cracked open, passed around and downed in moments. Shouts of glee rung out, arms thrown around shoulders, and laughter instrumented the start to a great year. A year they expected to be one of the best; full of joy, and parties, and new friends, and more music, and better gig opportunities.

Despite being (kind of) sober, Matt danced around in a drunken manner, ripping his shirt off and launching the garment at the closest person to him. Josh giggled, dodging the clothing. He threw himself at Chris, jumping onto his back with another fit of giggles.

"Oi! Off, you git," Chris joked, but the arm behind his back to keep the young singer stable in his position only contrasted his words. "I'll drop you. Let me put my beer down," was the only warning he gave before letting go of him.

That wasn't a lie, so Josh slid down the guitarist's back, glancing back at where Max had shoved his jeans and boxers to his knees and bent over in front of Matt's face. The singer snorted.

"Gay."

Max rolled his eyes, not bothering to pull his jeans back up. He straightened his spine, turning away from the bassist to look at Josh. "Like you're so straight."

"I am," Josh whined playfully, though they all knew he was lying. Even he knew himself.

"Oh, sure. That's why you want Dan to put his dick in your arse," the guitarist retorted teasingly. He grinned in triumph at the blush that blossomed on the taller's cheeks, as he flipped him off.

Oh, right. Dan. Where even was he? Probably pissing, Josh decided after a quick scan of the room. That bladder of his always had the worst timing - like the time he almost got left behind at the venue in Italy, because he went to piss without warning anyone. 2010 was truly a curse, not that Josh wasn't appreciative of the unluckiness of it all: when Dan explained where he'd been, Josh got to see him cutely blush in embarrassment.

'He's totally thinking about Dan railing him: look how red his cheeks are!" Chris pointed out, smirk wide as the other two burst into fits of laughter.

"I was not!" Josh yelled defensively. "Just thinking about how adorable he is," he added quietly - though, it didn't go unheard by the others.

"Awwww!" Matt cooed, pinching the singer's cheek.

Josh hit him round the back of the head jokingly, tongue poking out his mouth in childish mockery. Matt smirked, tickling his sides. His action elicited a squeal of shock, and caused the singer to run away from his hands. Matt took this as a sign to chase him, and the pair spent the next five minutes running around the room.

The call of, "Fireworks are starting!" from Chris was the only thing that stopped the childish pair, and bought Josh out of his euphoric trance.

"I'm gonna go look for Dan," he told them, groaning at the immature kissing-sounds.

"Awww! He wants to watch the fireworks with his boyfriend!" Max laughed, barely flinching when the singer threw an empty beer can at him. He did kinda deserve it, and Josh's aim sucked anyway.

"He's not my boyfriend; I just wanna check up on him. He's been a bit quiet today."

"I agree with Josh. He hasn't really been his usual self," Chris admitted, concern clear on his face as he glanced in the direction to the stairs.

Matt shrugged.

"He gets like this sometimes. He's probably just tired, to be honest. Go check on him, if you wanna, but I'm sure he's okay," he denied, which annoyed Josh more than he'd like to admit.

He just rolled his maya eyes, making his way upstairs to the spare room he and Dan had been occupying since their arrival to Chris' house. Opening the door, he peeked inside. Dan was in there (as he'd expected), but where he'd sat was what worried Josh the most.

He was perched on the windowsill - wearing nothing more than a thin, navy, long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of boxers - with his legs dangled out of the open window, swinging back and forth gently. His glacial eyes were trained to the bursts of vibrant colours (thought he visibly flinched at every loud bang), teary and sad. A mess pushed back out of his eyes, his platinum-blonde hair was dyed all tones of the rainbow by the flickering lights. His sniffle was what made Josh come to his senses, so the younger rushed forwards to him. His arms wrapped around the drummer's slim waist, pulling him inside easily.

"Daniel? What the fuck? You could've fallen!" Josh scolded, staring at him with confusion and worry.

"Kinda the point," Dan mumbled, shivering from the cold. He stared out of the window, watching the fireworks as he fought back tears.

Josh frowned, placing his hand on the drummer's thigh comfortingly.

"What?" he asked, voice quiet - processing the words. Kinda the point. Kinda the point.

Dan winced, a whimper of pain escaping his pink lips. The younger frowned again, retracting his hand away. The blonde shook his head, hand moving to the spot Josh touched - like he was shielding his own thigh from more pain.

"Dan?" the brunette asked slowly. "You're hurt? What happened?" Was it an intentional injury?

The older ignored him, eyes squeezed closed to stop himself from breaking down into the mess that was Daniel David Flint. Go away, Josh. Let me die, he thought to himself. He turned his body away, opening his eyes to focus back on the display of vibrant colours.

"Dan." Not a question. "Look at me." A demand. No movement. "Can I take a look?"

Dan rejected his request, shuffling away. His shoulders rose and fell in an irregular pattern, defined jaw clenched; his breaths were coming out of his nose in harsh, audible pants. Calloused fingers toyed with a loose thread on his boxers, hands shaking slightly with his efforts to not punch something.

"Dan."

The blonde whimpered pathetically, no longer having the energy to fight as the taller boy took a hold of his wrist. His hand was moved from its guarding place; his boxers were rolled up. Josh gasped, hands pulling away from his friend's thigh in fear of irritating the wounds more than the tight fabric had. Tears welled up in his maya eyes, hands flying to his mouth in shock. He couldn't stop staring at them - the deep, red gashes marring the skin. Blood slowly oozed from them, steadily dripping down the round of the muscle.

"Dan?" Josh whispered, voice weak and all choked-up as he grew light-headed, that image seared into his brain. Dan had hurt himself. Dan had hurt himself...

Dan didn't even look at him - just kept his gaze on the rapidly-slowing series of fireworks. He knew the extend of his wounds, and, quite frankly, had no intention of doing anything to stop the flow of blood. If he died, he wouldn't care - would even be thankful. His thigh hurt like a bitch, but he deserved it. He deserved that pain.

"Dan!"

Dan yelped in shock at the sudden raise of volume on the chorus of his name. Fuck, was he mad? He was probably mad. Of course, he would be. He had to use the time he could've spent having fun with his friends on New Year's Day - use it, for consoling an overdramatic idiot, such as Dan.

"I'm not mad, Love. Just wanna take a better look, and get you patched up, okay?" Josh reassured, soft hand on the blonde's tear-slick cheek. His thumb rubbed soothing circles into the skin, making Dan unknowingly nuzzle into the comforting touch.

Whilst the touch provided some comfort, Dan found himself not processing the words of that velvet voice, because his head was full of cotton, and his vision was hazy, and his hearing all muffled with a persistent ringing. And, fuck, he felt nauseous.

"Wait here: I'll go get the first-aid kit."

Josh was reluctant to leave the blonde (scared he was going to come back to an unconscious body, or - worse - a corpse), but he wasn't going to risk an infection, or septic-shock. So, he stood up, making his way into the bathroom with long, urgent strides.

He passed a confused Chris, on his way back to Dan, but he wasted no time explaining - just waving a freshly-washed, dismissive hand, and trying to not look so worried.

Thankfully, when he got back into the room, Dan was still alert, though arguably drowsy. Josh knelt down, squeezing his friend's knee gently.

"This is gonna sting like fuck, but it'll help you heal, okay?"

No, not really okay. He was kind of just hoping to die of some sort of infection, but he didn't think that was an option anymore. Though, the fact that Josh hadn't looked at him like he was some sort of freak did kind of make him feel a little better. A little.

Josh carefully washed the whole area with a wet cloth, stroking Dan's non-injured thigh absentmindedly, to distract him. As expected, Dan hissed loudly, when the alcohol wipes came into contact with his mutilated thigh, but the mildly-antiseptic Sudocrem Josh covered the wounds with soothed his pain. His thigh was covered with gauze pads, then wrapped in a bandage accordingly.

As Josh dressed his wounds, Dan looked down with curious eyes, wondering why he was even bothering to help something as worthless as he.

"Why?" Josh questioned gently as he stood, rolling the blonde's boxers down gently, "Why'd you do it?"

Dan flinched, looking away with an embarrassed expression.

"I know you might not be comfortable with talking to me, so I want force you. Just... Talk to someone - anyone."

"I-I-It's just..." Dan gulped, playing with his fingers. "I'm out here, watching another year go by, having fun with my mates, whilst my dad isn't. I'm here, another year on this planet, whilst my dad's life was ripped so cruelly from him... So suddenly... It's stupid. I know," he admitted quietly, sadly.

"It's not silly, if it's bothering you, Love," Josh assured, playing with the blonde's messy hair.

Dan just scoffed, disbelieving.

"But, it's silly that my pathetic existence is still here, when my dad could've been here instead!"

The brunette fought back tears, heart breaking as he heard someone he loved call himself 'pathetic'. It fucking hurt, but, he had to be strong for him; had to help him through it.

"Everything happens for a reason, Sweetheart. You're still here for a reason. You may not know what it is yet, but, that doesn't mean you're pathetic. You're not pathetic, Daniel, I promise."

He pressed a kiss to the blonde's temple, wrapping his arms around him. He just let him cry it out - better than keeping it all bottled up - listening to whatever hiccuped words came out of his mouth.

And, it was there, as Dan was falling asleep on his best friend's shoulder, that he decided that maybe - just maybe - he wasn't pathetic; that, if Josh could see something in him, maybe others could, too.

And, so, with tear-stained, rosy cheeks, a bandaged thigh, and a small, honest smile on his face, he drifted into a peaceful sleep. Soft snores escaped him, chest falling in an even way. An improvement from his panicked breaths earlier, Josh thought, staring down at the blonde with adoration. His slender fingers brushed bleached locks out of the way of closed eyes, and his other hand fell into a nice, calming rhythm of rubbing the other's tummy.

After that night, they spent most holidays together, laughing and joking - anything to keep Dan's mind off the unsettling thoughts that lay dormant in the back of his head. The wounds healed perfectly, and (whilst that was not the first, nor last, time he had the patch him up) it was the last time Dan ever felt alone in his struggles.

He had someone now. Maybe, he really wasn't so pathetic after all.


End file.
